The Shadow Charmer
by TheWildeFiles
Summary: "They did this to me, drove that cursed nail right through my heart, and it changed me. For better or worse, i have yet to know,"- "All I have are nightmares. When I lie my head down, I hear screams. When I close my eyes, I see blood. But not my blood." He is dark. He is quiet. And he looks like he had just been through hell. [KristoffxAnna] [ElsaxTucker(OC)]
1. Chapter 1

Kristoff tightened Sven's harness so that it fit the reindeer snuggly.

"Is that better, buddy?" Krsitoff asked, his eyes glinting with good-natured amusement.

Sven snorted and pranced and in place. Kristoff chuckled, and patted the reindeer's back, pulling Sven into a half-hug.

"You ready for this?" The mountain man asked, rubbing the reindeer's snout.

The sleigh's current cargo was blocks upon blocks of perfectly cut, rectangular blocks of ice. With provisions packed and survival gear loaded, Kristoff and his best friend were ready for the long trek to Flumen. A small river resting upon the surface of a massive lake, Flumen was by far the most in need of ice. The blocks of ice Kristoff sold, as the Ice Master and Deliverer, worked well for storing the fish that the occupants of Flumen worked so hard to gain.

Kristoff, being the terrible business person that he is, and frankly far too kind for his own good (Anna really had softened him up) sometimes found pity for the poor village folk and just offered the his blocks of ice for absolutely no payment in return. Except maybe pie. The mountain man liked pie.

Trussing the harnessed reindeer to his beautiful sleigh, Kristoff leaped on bored whistling a merry tune. He pulled a sack from beside his feet and checked his tools, making sure that they were well shined and sharpened just in case the sleigh happened to have an accident. Kristoff first removed a small knife, tucked within its leather sheath. He unsheathed the small blade and slid his finger along the shard edge. Still fairly sharp.

Next, Kristoff removed a mountain pick sufficient for climbing vertical rocky cliffs or boulders and digging snow anchors. The mountain man snorted slightly, remembering that it was his current girlfriend who bought the mountain tool. He thumped the point into his palm lightly, so not to damage his hand. He quite liked his hand. Kristoff frowned, a bit blunt. Sven snorted and stomped his hooves in impatience, quite exited to get on the road. The fair-haired man chuckled.

"One minute Sven, he murmured,"

The reindeer huffed in exasperation and rolled his eyes, though his back was to his best companion. The said man then hurriedly tested the rope, so not to test Sven's patience any longer. After the rope and a few other useful tools, Kristoff checked his provisions. A loaf of fresh bread, possibly still warm, a few fresh red apples, a small slice of pie (yum), and of course, a whole bundle of carrots. Sven snorted in anxiety again and leaned forward so to push the sleigh. But the wooden means for travel was hooked to the floor of the stables. Kristoff laughed at the reindeer's attempts.

"I said another minute buddy, I think you can handle just another sixty seconds, am I right?"

The reindeer stilled but also raised his head in disparity, letting his friend know that he'll wait, but still didn't like it. Kristoff sighed and slipped off the sleigh to check the paintwork. Still flawless. Climbing back on his sleigh the mountain man ran his fingers through his hair as he glanced back at his cargo of ice. He had already checked the straps that bound the blocks of ice to the cargo bay, but he still bore a rather nervous feeling in his stomach.

"Okay Sven, unless you want to wait the remaining five seconds, it's time to fly,"

Kristoff prepped himself and gripped the reins in his gloved fists, ready for some swift travel. The reindeer didn't budge.

"Sven, buddy, did ya here me? Let's go! C'mon!"

Sven snorted and twisted his neck so he could face the mountain man. His face bore a freakishly human expression. It read, _you poor simple minded idiot._ Kristoff slapped his hand to his forehead.

"OH! Duh, sorry," he leaped off the sleight once again and kneeled down to one knee beside the wooden means for travel, undoing the leather straps the bound the vehicle to the floor of the stable.

While he was at it, Kristoff rechecked that straps of leather that secured the cargo. Finally satisfied, the mountain man leaped back onto his sleigh and flicked the reins.

"Kay bud, ready,"

Sven snorted again, this time in excitement, and charged out from the cover of the royal stables and into the brisk breeze of spring. Since the pair entered into courtyard of the castle of Arendelle, Sven was forced to retain a leisurely pace so not to barrel into innocent servants or guests.

Kristoff's eyes were drawn to the front doors of the castle and a pang and sadness stabbed his heart. Anna hadn't taken him leaving lightly. At first she thought that he was joking, then turned to anger, then to panic, and then, finally, to tears.

Over the years he had known the bubbly princess his love for her had grown considerable. To begin with, had had thought their relationship just a passing affection, then to tender love. And now, unspeakably wondrous bliss. Words cannot describe how every laugh that spills through those perfect lips, every sparkle of her beautiful blue eyes, every blinding smile makes the mountain man feel. Now he is convinced that he is hopelessly in love with the young woman, and he can hardly believe it that she shares his infinite affections. He keeps telling himself that he is nowhere near worthy for Anna, but she forbids him to say such folly.

When they had first met, he was a complete jerk to the princess, and in his own eyes, Kristoff still was. He was leaving. The journey to Flumen itself would take a few days at the least. He would probably spend a day or two a Flumen itself.

Saying goodbye to Elsa had been considerably easier. The queen whole heartedly understood and appreciated Kristoff's concern for the folks of Flumen. Don't get her wrong, Elsa loved Kristoff like a brother and did feel a lump rising up her throat from the news of his departure, But the mountain man had a duty as the Ice Master and Deliverer. And the fish at Flumen was rotting every day.

Kristoff snapped from his reverie as they neared the gates that were now open for his departure. Sven snorted and made many feral sounds that were unrecognizable to the mountain man, a clear sign that the reindeer was overly excited to run free and open.

"Kristoff! Wait! WAIT!"

The said fair-haired man jerked and turned his head to see the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. Kristoff's jaw dropped.

Anna.

The princess was holding an old fashioned sack-on-a-stick over her shoulder. Her other hand was hitching up the skirt of her dress so she could maneuver faster to the sleigh, which was rapidly gaining speed.

"Anna! What're you doing!?"

Instead of answering, the princess broke into a sprint huffing and puffing until she had caught up with the sleigh.

"Kristoff!" Again she shouted his name, and this time she lunged up and into the sleigh and onto the mountain man's lap.

At this precise moment in time, Sven decided to break in a thrilled sprint. Anna gazed up into her lovers eyes.

"What does it look like?" she asked, smiling.

Kristoff sputtered and the princess giggled.

"I'm coming with you silly,"

She sat up and squealed, bouncing in her seat. Poor Kristoff was still speechless, staring into space, still trying to process what exactly had just happened. Shaking his head, he faced his love, his eyes twinkling.

"Well, um, hope you like pie,"

Anna giggle, kissing Kristoff's cheek. "I love pie,"

~*~ **( that, my friend, is a line break)**

_Three Days Later…._

Thunder rumbled into the night. Kristoff, dripping wet and shivering, did his best to warm Anna at his side as the sleigh dragged on. They had seeked to find shelter, but to no avail. They were so close. Kristoff glanced back at the tarp that covered the ice from the rain destined to melt it. Anna shivered violently as she leaned closer to the equally cold mountain man.

A few more minutes passed and Kristoff began to locate familiar sights. A windmill, soiled farmland, signs unrecognizable through the downpour though Kristoff knew what they said. He had been here many times in his travels.

"Sven!" the mountain man had to shout through the gale, "stop, we're here!"

As the exhausted and miserable reindeer complied, Kristoff stroked Anna's shivering shoulders.

"You stay her while I talk to the ferry man,"

Anna shifted in her seat, "W-why?" she asked.

"This isn't Arendelle, Anna. Not everybody here are all smiles and parties."

The princess began to protest but Kristoff had already slipped off the sleigh. His boots plopping in the mud, the mountain man trudged to a cabin resting beside the base of the pier that led out to a massive lake. Kristoff could only see the cabin, for his vision was limited through the heavy shower of rain in the dead of night.

The young man rapped his knuckles against the door of the cabin loudly. Kristoff glanced at the sleigh resting five yards away. Squinting, Kristoff could see Anna raising her arm and giving him a thumbs-up. The mounting man snorted in amusement, then continued to rap his knuckles against the door, this time harder.

"Oy! I'm commin I'm commin," A voice grumbled from within. He heard stomping, along with more grumbling and cursing.

The door cracked open and a man poked his head and a lantern through the open space, his expression miffed. The man had a combination of bushy sideburns that crossed his face as a mustache. He wore a sleeping cap on, slippers and a pop belly bugled through his ankle-length night gown.

"What do ya want, stranger?" his voice was gruff and impatient.

"A ride across the lake," Kristoff replied, standing to his full height, which was two heads taller than the ferry-man, who snorted.

"Impossible, it be mah nappin' time, stranger. Come back when ya ain't drunk."

The ferry-man attempted the close the door but Kristoff caught his boot between the door and threshold. The ferry-man grunted and pulled the door completely open and regarded the mountain man once again.

"I'll pay triple," Kristoff said, getting desperate. Anna could be getting sick.

The ferry-man seemed thoughtful.

"I'll hafta snatch up me haul-,"

Kristoff cut him off.

"No need, I'll haul,"

The ferry-man looked perplexed, and then his eyes scanned the mountain man's bulky silhouette and grunted in mild respect.

"Guess not, how much you willin ta pay? Triple ya say?"

"How much money per passenger?" Kristoff inquired.

"Three coppehs,"

"What about cargo?"

"How much?"

"Ten pounds of ice,"

The ferry-man grunted, this time in surprise and raised the lantern to illuminate Kristoff's face.

"Oy, well I'll be pricked, you're that fancy shmancy ice man! What was it, Christopher?"

The mountain man grimaced, squinting in the light "Kristoff," he snapped back.

"Well, what's yah business ah Flumen?"

Kristoff stared at the ferry man as if he were an idiot.

"Take a wild guess,"

The man blinked several times, as if surprised at his own stupidity.

"Oh,"

"So what's the price for a reindeer?"

The ferry man glanced over Kristoff's shoulder at the snorting reindeer, then to the waving figure on the sleigh itself.

"lemme think, reindeer's more unusual, horse goes by two silvahs, but reindeer?" The ferry-man clucked his tongue.

"Business's slow lately, not much reindeer take rides on me ferry, I hafta say… three gold,"

Kristoff did a double take, "three _gold?! _ You can't be serious,"

The ferry man straightened, "can't pay, no ride, my policy,"

The mountain man let out an exasperated sigh and ran his fingers through his sopping wet hair. He glanced back at Anna. Seeing her shivering in the rain made his blood boil. She was a princess, _a princess, _yet he had dragged her along on one o his escapades. Like a jerk.

"I'll pay,"

The ferry man nodded, and then slammed the door shut in his face. Kristoff took a step back, then turned and headed for the sleigh.

"What's up?" Anna asked, trying to sound up beat.

"The ferry man will give us a ride across the like to Flumen; from there we'll rent a room at an inn then sell the deliver the ice to the market in the morning."

Anna nodded and bent over and place a quick kiss to Kristoff's lips.

"Why did you come with me?" Kristoff asked, shaking away his surprise. "It's miserable out here; Elsa will blame me if you die of pneumonia,"

Anna giggled, "Are you kidding me Kris? We're on an adventure!"

Little did they know that a man awaits them at Flumen.

And little that this man know that this fine couple were going to change his life for the better.

**Let me know if I should continue this.**


	2. Chapter two

Flumen was once a fine town surfacing the lake. It had many trading deals with neighboring guilds and neutral villages. Its occupants had plenty to eat as well as to spare. People sung in the morning, danced in the afternoon, and hummed in the evening. Every neighbor was pleasant. Every man smiled, every woman's cheeks were tinted red with mirth. Every child laughed.

Tucker missed those days dearly.

Now, Flumen was quiet. Men glared with distrust, woman's eyes drooped with labor, and the children were too sick to laugh. Flumen was the heart of the black market. Illegal weapons were traded. Poisoned tobacco sold. Every other business man stabbed the next into the back to break free from unforgivable agreements. It was a quiet hell.

Now the town itself was literally on the lake. Each building on stilts and either connected to each other by wall or board walk. Instead of paths and sidewalks, Flumen consisted of boardwalks and arched bridges. The fisher men set out into the center of the lake to fish, the last few honest fisher men that resided in Flumen. All they wanted was to fend for their families.

Tucker had but two identities. During the day he was a lonely traveler just passing through for a few days for rest. At night, people tend to call the young man The Shadow Charmer.

Of course, nobody knew the Tucker and the dark, hooded man in the night were one. Rumor had spread fast of the Shadow Charmer. People called him a messenger of the devil. Some claims that they had seen the man melt into the shadows with their very own eyes. Some says that he is a vampire, searching for a worthy meal. Others say (mainly the ladies) that he is a runaway prince seeking love in the night.

Tucker always scoffs at that last one.

The young man stood before a wooden door in the night. He was determined this was it. His target. Two nights ago he plucked the petty thieves, hoping to find what he was looking for. Last night he crashed and destroyed a black market trade. Still nothing. Tonight was the night. If he didn't find one tonight he would move on.

Tucker fitted on his faceless silver mask and flipped up his black hood. He took a step back, then rotated his shoulders. Time for action.

The Shadow Charmer charged forth, tearing down the weak wooden door. Surprised shouts filled the small but simple room. Unsheathing a knife from under his cloak, he hurled it across the room and into the chest of a man. One of the men charged him blindly shouting curses, his fists a hurricane.

Tucker nimbly sidestepped and stuck out his leg, tripping his attacker and didn't bother turning to watch him topple down the steps. A black haired man with far too many rings pointed at Tucker.

"You!" he shouted, "what do you want?!"

His voice didn't even quaver, this man was not afraid. But Tucker was not bothered; fear is easy to teach to those who haven't experienced it. Without a word, the Shadow Charmer stalked forward to the few remaining men. He stopped within a foot before the man who spoke.

The other two men stood a few feet back, weapons drawn. Finally, the man to the left lost his nerve and charged, sword raised. The attack was sloppy; this black market dealer was obviously used to other men fighting his fights.

As the blade ached downward, Tucker sidestepped, crouched low, extended one leg out and spun, sweeping the man off his feet. The Shadow Charmer stomped onto the man's temple, so to knock him unconscious. He turned to face the remaining two.

The man with the rings had short, black hair and cruel, greedy blue eyes. He frame was scrawny and his nose curved downward like a vulture. The other man was quite young, maybe twenty or twenty one, with long brown hair and hazel eyes. He was tall and firm and he grasped his sword like a trained fighter. That one.

Without even glancing at vulture-man, Tucker sauntered forth. As he passed vulture-man he swept out one arm and sunk a silver dagger deep into his throat. The criminal gurgled and fell to his knees first, then to the floor, lifeless.

Mr.-handsome gripped his sword tighter and narrowed his eyes.

"You," this was the first time Tucker had ever spoken while suited up as the Shadow Charmer.

"We're alone now, just you and me. One on one. You have no hopes on winning, so tell me what I want to know."

An expression of perplexity crossed Mr.-handsome's features.

"Now tell me," the Shadow charmer continued, "how do I get it out?"

That is when Mr.-handsome smiled, understanding. It was not a nice smile; it was a cruel, twisted grin.

"Ah, so the missing experiment was the Shadow Charmer all along,"

The said man stopped, "figured you'd do the math. Now answer my question."

Mr.-handsome slashed out with his sword. Tucker dodged back and pulled another dagger from under his cloak, flinging it at Mr.-handsome, who deflected it with the flat of his blade. The antagonists circled each other, searching for one another's weaknesses.

"The nail will consume you, 'Shadow Charmer'," Mr.-handsome said, his voice mocking.

"What has it done to you already? How is your plague of endless nightmares?"

This time Tucker attacked, lashing out with a foot-long silver knife. The blades rung as they clashed, silver against steel. He then stuck out with his boot, striking Mr.-handsome in chest and sending him toppling over the table. He immediately sprung to his feet and retreated a few steps, still smirking.

"Can you here the screams of every life you take? See the blood of innocents on your hands?"

Tucker attacked again, but this time his opponent was ready. Mr.-handsome sidestepped and smashed the hilt of his sword into the back of the Shadow Charmer's hooded head. Ordinary men would have been knocked unconscious by such a blow, but Tucker only stumbled.

"Have you seen the underworld? The burning, the tortured cries for mercy? The rivers of fire bubbling with bodies? The maniacal laughter of the damned?"

The Shadow Charmer spun, kicking Mr.-handsome's blade from his hands. He then shoved his opponent forward into the wall and drove his knife into his shoulder, pinning him there.

Tucker's faceless mask was an inch from Mr.-handsome's.

"You know nothing of hell," he whispered, his voice tortured.

Mr.-handsome coughed, choking on his own blood.

"H-how does it f-feel," he racked into more bloody hacks, "to be the monster in your own dream,"

He smirked again, his lips bloody.

"The curse will reach your heart, and when it does, there will be no hope left," and then his body fell limp, lifeless.


End file.
